Less Than a Pearl
by Ayla505x
Summary: Leah Feather's secret has resulted in the birth of three children, fated to lead destinies beyond their very imaginations. But sometimes, a single choice is all it takes to destroy something great... Sequel to Two Points for Honesty. AU, AH.
1. Chapter 1

"Lionel! It's time for school!"

Deep amber eyes blinked open, then narrowed to slits as blinding sunlight filtered in through the window above his bed. The world seemed to blur for a moment before coming to a still, the light now warm on his skin. For a long moment he was still, staring through half-lidded eyes up at the white ceiling, at the fan that spun leisurely in the center. He could hear footsteps downstairs, probably his mother bustling about, getting his things ready for the day. The thought made him smile. She always insisted on helping him with everything, then forgot about it until the last second. His father would have left for work earlier in the day, and would probably be back sometime after school.

School! He sat up quickly, making his head spin. He ignored it and leapt out of his bed, stretching his lithe, muscular limbs in the golden sunlight. His first day of highschool, and at the very school his mother had went to and his father had taught at. Normally, Lionel wasn't one to be excited for school. But something about the prospect made his heart quicken in anticipation this year. He walked over to his dresser, slid open the drawer, and pulled out some clothes. For most kids, a new year ment a new opportunity to build a reputation that hadn't quite stuck the year before. Though for Lionel, it was the same, year after year. Tattered jeans and leather jacket, white fingerless gloves stained with the blood from more fights then he cared to remember.

"Lionel, are you up?" Scarlett called up, followed by a crash and a sharp exclamation of "ouch!" There was a moment of silence before his mother spoke up again with a nervous laugh. "I'm alright! Just... erm... knocked over some paint cans... do you think your father would mind? It doesn't look bad, pretty stylish actually..." Lionel grinned, opening his door and looking over the balcony to where his mother was crouching over splatters of yellow, red, and blue paint. She seemed to take up a new profession every month, claiming she enjoyed them all but always wanted to try something new. Her current obsession was interior decorating, as one could see from the numerous abstract paintings now covering the walls. Brian, Lionel's father, put up with her antics without so much as a complaint. She'd always been that way, according to him. "Yeah, mom, I'm up. I'll be down in the minute."

He entered the upstairs bathroom, blinking as the bright florescent lights flickered into being. Looking into the mirror for a long moment, he studied his image. There was no doubt that he appeared intimidating, with his tall, lean stature and tan complexion. A thick mop of spiky golden hair topped his head, highlighted by the light above. His eyes weren't the golden amber of his fathers', but rather were dark reddish orange. Over the years, he'd developed a permanent scowl, his eyebrows drawn together in an expression of perpetual annoyance. Despite this, he'd heard on many occasions how girls would moon over him, as though his impulsive and aggressive nature did nothing to dampen their opinion of his looks. He couldn't care less, honestly. He didn't even believe it. Lionel Thundera wasn't supposed to be someone that attracted such unnesecary attention.

Satisfied that he looked threatening, he exited the bathroom and made his way down the stairs. Scarlett seemed to be attempting to pick up the spilled paint, but wasn't having much luck. She grumbled under her breath about her own clumsiness for a moment before she noticed Lionel standing there and cut him off before he asked to help. "No, no! You'll be late! Your backpack is on the couch, and you can grab breakfast at school." She stood up and kissed his forehead before pulling him into a hug. "Have fun, Leo." She murmured, letting him go and smiling at him warmly. "You'll do fine."

The golden-haired boy nodded in reply before walking to the couch, picking up his backpack, and slinging it over his shoulder. Normally, he'd never allow anyone to show so much affection towards him. But Scarlett was his mother, and it was impossible to be mad at her when she was such a klutz. He pulled on his shoes and looked back once more, seeing Scarlett had given up on trying to clean up the spill and was now hefting a chair over top of it to hide it. Shaking his head in amusement, Lionel opened the door and stepped out into the warm August sunlight. The scent of leaves in their prime assaulted him from all angles, summer slowly drawing to a close and giving way to the amber shades of autumn. He squinted his eyes, shading them with one hand, when he spotted the boy who had just passed by the house. "Jason!" He called, leaping from the doorstep and running to join his friend.

The boy raised his bowed head but didn't turn as Lionel fell into step behind him. "Hey, man!" The golden-haired boy grinned, throwing his arm over the other's shoulder. "Whassup?"

"The sky." The smaller of the two answered, earning an annoyed snort from his companion. "That joke is so old." He muttered, removing his arm from around Jason. "You really need some new material, Jay."

Still his gray-haired companion stared ahead blankly, which on any other occasion would have been normal. He preferred not to face people when speaking to them, as they ended up asking why he wasn't looking at them. Better they assume then ask to his face. "You okay?" Lionel asked, his tone dropping to a more serious note.

"Nah." The paler boy answered, his shoes scuffing the concrete of the sidewalk. "Something just... feels wierd today." He turned to face Lionel, and both of them stopped. "Will you be careful today?" He asked, his indifferent voice betraying the slightest hint of worry. Lionel knew better than to question Jason's judgement; the blind boy tended to see much more than an average person. "And keep a close eye on Holly, in case it involves her."

"Yeah, alright." He nodded, watching silently as Jason turned and began to walk again. "Hey, wait, Jay..." Falling into step beside his best friend once again, Lionel's voice dropped. "How come you've been having all these wierd feelings lately? They don't usually come this often, do they? Are you sure you're alright? Have you ever thought, you know, maybe being able to feel when something bad is going to happen isn't too great for your health? Maybe you're going insane. Like having voices in your head." He knocked on his friend's head with one fist, and Jason waved him away with a smirk.

"Hey guys!" A voice suddenly called from behind them. Both boys turn to see the last member of their trio, Holly, running towards them across the sidewalk. She was a bit taller than Jay, quite a bit shorter than Leo, and about a mile smarter than either. Lionel grinned and clapped one hand on her shoulder as she joined them. "About time you got here." He joked. "Jay's been getting his wierd feelings again. You know how he relies on you to decipher them." He laughed, and Jason blushed furiously.

Holly, however, solemned immediately. "Again?" Her brows furrowed in concern, and she looked at Lionel. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Couldn't you have called me or something? Nevermind, whatever. Jason, do you feel alright?" She pressed one hand to his forehead, checking for a fever no doubt. "Nothing's happened lately. I don't understand why you're so on edge all the time lately."

Lionel smiled warmly, watching Jay push Holly's hand away impatiently. He, Jay, and Holly had known eachother since before they could remember. They'd always been best friends, and people made fun of them for being so different. His friends especially didn't understand why he'd hang out with an 'emo kid' like Jay. What bothered him though was when they called Holly 'hot', among other words, with her curvaceous figure, shoulder-length raven-black hair, round, freckled face, and deep green eyes. She most certainly wasn't 'hot'. She was beautiful. A woman like her, who held herself with such poise, who was proud and powerful enough to stand up for herself, didn't fall under a teenage boy's categories. Holly was something completely different.

"Alright, alright!" Jason hissed, pushing Holly away impatiently. "I'm fine! Just be careful, alright? I don't know what's going to happen, or if something going to happen at all, but just... just stay safe, got that?" He glared at her venomously through blind blue eyes, and it almost seemed as though he could actually see her. "I don't want you letting your guard down and getting hurt just because something _might_ not happen."

"Calm down." Lionel's voice solemned, and he clapped Jason on the back with one hand. "You know we wouldn't doubt you for a minute, Jay. You just worry about us too much." He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, it's like you forget you're tiny _and_ blind."

The smaller boy bristled, but relaxed quickly. Lionel was the only person who could calm him down by being completely blunt. He wasn't afraid to state the truth, and that's what his companions admired about him. The leader of their trio, he kept them together and would never do anything against either of them. And best of all, he didn't worry constantly about Jay's blindness, like everyone else seemed to. He was accepted with his two best friends, and he was believed in. "How could I forget?" The gray-haired boy muttered, rolling his pale eyes.

"Lionel's right." Holly piped up, smiling warmly. "Worry about yourself for once, Jason. We'll be fine."

"In fact, I'll bet twenty dollars all of us will make it back home today without so much as a scratch." Lionel proclaimed, grinning cockily.

* * *

><p><em>I wonder if it's too late to take back that bet.<em>

It'd been a pretty normal day. As normal as your first day of highschool can get, anyway. Plenty of new faces, plenty he hadn't seen in a while, and more than enough teachers. Strict ones, funny ones, nice ones, pretty ones, old ones. And of course, there were the upperclassmen. Lionel could tell from the moment he walked through the doors and heard the mutterings around him about a Thundera attending their highschool, it would be a rough year. For as long as he could remember he'd been ridiculed for lineage, picked on by jealous kids that didn't have the status or the money. Not that Lionel cared about that kind of thing. As he always told them, he cared not about the money or the priveledges, he cared about his own abilities. Every fight he'd win, it would be with his own strength. Nobody elses.

Trouble had started when Lionel was talking with one of his friends, a boy with gray-and-white hair named Michael. He, his twin sister Hazel and older brother Bert had moved to the town only a year ago. Bert and Lionel already had somewhat of a antagonistic history, Bert seeing the younger boy as a threat to his status over the other students with his status and physical strength. Normally, they kept as far apart as possible. But Lionel made the mistake of going home alone that day, when Bert and his group just happened to be taking the same route.

From the beginning, it hadn't been like any normal fight he'd ever been in. It wasn't a fight fueled by jealousy or the fear of a ruthless leader, though that was certainly part of it. He could feel it, every single time his fist connected with them, sparks of energy flew from the touch. In the moment of impact, he had always been able to feel his opponent's feelings, their deepest desires to protect or defend or attack, if only for the slightest second. But today, with every kid he downed, not a flicker of emotion could be felt underneath their skin. Instead, his normal abilities was backfiring on him. Wounds meant little to him in the heat of battle, but now he could feel every single punch they through like a firecracker going off inside his flesh. He almost never got tired during a battle. Exhaustion weighed on his limbs heavier than lead. A fire would flicker in his veins, and he would feel alive. He felt as though every ounce of life he had him was draining out.

_What the hell is wrong with them? _He though as his bruised fist met with the nose of a pudgy boy, who lurched back with blood spraying onto the concrete. _They won't stop coming at me. _An arm wrapped around his neck from behind, cutting off his air supply, and he just managed to dig his elbow into his attacker's stomach to propel them away. _There aren't even that many of them. Why do they keep coming? _He spun around to face yet another of the gangsters, and his eyes widened. _I already knocked you out! _Before he could state his amazement, the boy grabbed him by the arm and yanked downward violently. Lionel cried out in pain as his shoulder popped from its socket. As he lurched forward, the boy's knee lifted and connected with Lionel's chin. A sharp crack could be heard as the golden-haired boy hit the alley wall behind him and slid silently down to the damp ground beneath. His vision was flickering, beginning to fade, as the pain from the back of his head dulled from a roar to a gentle hum.

As the crazed faces of the gangsters began to shutter and disapear into blackness, a single voice echoed insistently in the back of his mind, willing him to move, to stand, to fight. But weakness suddenly didn't seem too bad, if it meant he could rest, if only for a moment. The last thing he was concious of was the boy in front of him holding up a dagger, its edge glinting silver. He could never recall anyone actually trying to _kill_ him. Fights had never gone that far before. As the dagger came down, it seemed suspended in slow motion. He was aware of the serated metal pricking his chest, then felt the smooth motion of it puncturing his flesh and sliding in slowly. There was no pain as the blade pierced his lung. His limbs slowly went numb. Breath left his body, and everything melted away with a gentle sigh of defeat.

Blood dripped steadily beside his ear.

No, it wasn't blood.

The heavy, cloying scent was gone. It had been replaced with something crisp and clean.

Water.

"Did you want to win?" A soft voice asked him from the shadows that crawled on the edges of his returning vision. Lights blurred and sharpened in front of him, blobs became shapes before melding back into the blackness. "Did you want to win?" The voice repeated, closer this time.

Lionel's brows furrowed in confusion. What kind of question was that? Why wouldn't he want to win? He nodded slowly, his tongue feeling too thick and dry to speak.

"Then why didn't you?" The voice pressed, followed by the sound of shoes scraping on the rough ground. "Why didn't you win? You said you wanted to. Or were you just fighting to survive? Is that all fighting means to you? Defending yourself against kids that think you're not good enough? You hunger power. Otherwise you wouldn't be going along with inheriting the Thunder fortune. So why does fighting mean so little to you?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a strangled groan as his wounded chest protested. "I only fight when I need to!" He choked out finally, angry with this man for questioning him, for insulting his motives. "There's no point in it any other time. I'm going to be someone one day... someone important. Why... why should I fight now? There's nothing for me to fight for yet!"

"What about your family?" The voice retorted coldly. "Your friends? Your honor? Those aren't enough for you to fight for?" There was silence as the voice waited silently for the boy to digest this before he continued. "A new world is coming, kid. A world right beyond your door, beyond all you've ever known and loved. Do you know what it's going to take to create a new world? A war. Do you know what it's going to take to win that war?" When there was no reply, the voice cackled rustily.

"A new world...?" Lionel whispered, not quite grasping what the stranger was saying. "What does... what does that have to do with me winning?"

"There are evil people in this world." The voice answered. "Evil, evil people. This world won't be yours unless you can fight. Fight with all your strength. If you can do that, this war will be ours, and you will have the power you want. You just need to prove yourself. Against everyone who's ever doubted you. I will help you, if you wish."

His vision was beginning to fade, slowly, disapearing again into oblivion. "Wait!" He murmured, unable to will away the blackness. "What's your name?"

"My name is Ashton Woode. Welcome to the Power of Three."

* * *

><p><strong>Characters mentionedintroduced:**

**Lionel Thundera- Lionblaze**

**Scarlett Thundera- Squirrelflight**

**Brian Thundera- Brambleclaw**

**Jason Feather- Jayfeather**

**Holly Winderland- Hollyleaf**

**Michael- Mousewhisker**

**Hazel- Hazeltail**

**Bert- Berrynose**

**Ashton Woode- Ashfur**

**Welcome to my new fanfic, sequel to Two Points for Honesty. This story will have about three times as much action as the last one, by the way. Cause our hero is the ever manly Lionblaze~~!**

**Love him. XD**

**Please review? Let's start this new story off with a bang!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Trivia: **

**Lionel holds all women in very high regard, not just Holly. When he was old enough to understand, Brian told him the reason Scarlett flinched away at any strange man's touch. His father taught him that women were never to be abused, that a true man would always do all they could to protect a girl. He taught him that though a man may be strong, may be powerful and wise, nothing he did would ever compare to the bravery and love a woman showed in her lifetime. A boy, he said, would be nothing without love from a girl. Unfortunantly, this often leads to Lionel underestimating a woman's strength, as he learned in fifth grade when he 'saved' a girl from being bullied, only to be beaten up himself by said girl.**

* * *

><p>Jason ran. Blood pounded deafeningly in his ears, the sound of his shoes against the concrete loud as war drums. He was panting, willing his legs to move faster, his lungs burning in his chest. A familiar crack beneath his left foot. He turned to the right at the end of the block, checking swiftly to make sure he wasn't too close to the curb. His heart felt as though it was about to burst when the antiseptic scent of the hospital finally tainted the breeze. Rounding the last bend, it wasn't far before he could hear the automatic doors sliding open and could feel the cool air rush out towards him.<p>

"Hello, Jason." He recognized the voice of the nurse Willow standing at the front desk. Not wasting any time on a greeting, Jason slammed his hands down on the counter. "Where's my mother?" The gray-haired boy asked in a hushed whisper. He could feel indecision and irritation sparking underneath Willow's calm front, but she relented after a moment. "Floor Two, three-B. Really though, Jay, you should be less rude-" She didn't get the chance to finish, as the boy was off down the hallway.

He couldn't dial the numbers on the elevator fast enough, it seemed. Every second he wasted, the tiny life force he felt pulsing in the back of his mind slowly faded. While the elevator lurched and began its steady travel upwards, he rememered vaguely something Holly had said. "I think," she'd said, her face perplexed. "That a truly happy man that knew the date of his death would do absolutely nothing differently on his last day. He wouldn't waste time doing things he'd never been able to do before, or say 'I love you' to people that already knew he did... he'd let the day drift away, just like any other. With friends and family and all the love in the world. And in the end... he'd know he didn't die alone."

Jay's fist slammed into the side of elevator so hard it rattled the metal frame. "Dammit!" He cursed, his teeth clenched and his fists straining. "Dammit, dammit...!" Why... why was it that he always went out of his way to protect his best friends? Why was it that they never _listened_ to him? Well, that wasn't true... Holly listened to him. Lionel sometimes, too. But why... when everything had seemed just fine for so long now... why was it just when they thought they could relax that everything had to shatter right in front of them? Why didn't they _listen? _They were so selfish! He needed them, dammit! They couldn't... they couldn't just go around and die...

As soon as the elevator screeched to a hault and opened, Jason was out. His breathing came in quick, ragged gasps as he raced down the hallway, tripping over empty bedpans and running into several nurses on the way. It was when he finally heard the familiar voice of his mother that he allowed relief to course through his veins. Another bend, and he could hear her voice clearly in front of him. Panting, he skid to a stop, and she turned away from the person she'd been talking. Jason recognized by the sound of his voice that he was Bart, another doctor. His mother suddenly stopped speaking, and he imagined her turning to face him with a startled exclamation of "Jay!"

"Mom," He gasped, gulping before he continued. "Leo is dead! Again!"

* * *

><p>The first time he'd died had been frightening, to say the least. He and Jason's mothers had been best friends since before they were born. One day, when Jay was visiting Lionel's family, they went to visit Brian's old friend Craig on their ranch. The boys had met Holly before, but at the age of five, this was the first times they remembered seeing her. The three overheard Holly's mother and father speaking to Lionel's parents about the foxes that were constantly raiding their chicken coop.<p>

"You guys know what we need to do, right?" Holly murmured, picking up a toy baseball bat her little brother Brendon had left on the floor. Her green eyes were serious as usual, but there was a new determination there that neither boys had ever seen before. "Daddy will get mad if the chickens keep dying. And when Daddy gets mad, Mommy and Daddy fight. We need to stop those foxes so Daddy doesn't get mad." She'd looked at her companions for their consent, and they each nodded in turn.

Lionel held his friends' hands tightly as they snuck out of the house while their parents were deep in conversation. Together they raced to the edge of the woods and stopped at the clear line separating the fields from the forest. Lionel gulped, looking at Jason in concern. "Holly," he murmured, squeezing he hand tightly. "Jay can't see. What if he trips and falls?"

"Stop worrying about me!" Jason snapped, yanking his hand away from Lionel's. "I'll be fine, idiot." He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his head away. Holly glared at Lionel, who simply shrugged innocently. "Jason," Holly took his hand instead, and the boy's head snapped up with a blush spreading over his cheeks. "We know you're plenty strong, and you're fast, too. But there are twigs and stones and who knows what else in there. We just want to make sure you're safe." Jason mumbled under his breath for a moment before speaking. "Just because I'm blind it doesn't mean I'm weak, you know."

"But you're small and you're clumsy." Lionel said bluntly, obviously getting impatient. "Look, Jay, we've got to get going, and we can't sit here waiting for you to come to grips with the fact that people are gonna worry about you, whether you like it or not."

"Fine!" Jason turned sharply to the right. "Then I'll go on my own. And when I find those foxes and beat them, you'll wish you'd had me with you!" He was gone in the woods before either could say anything.

Holly began to run after him, but Lionel reached forward and grabbed her sleeve. "Let him go." He told her. "He gets like this sometimes. He'll come back." Not listening to her protests, Leo grasped her hand in his own and pushed his way into the thick foliage marking the boundary between the trees and the field. Strange, shadowy darkness fell over them quickly, and the heat seemed to be sapped from their bodies. Holly pressed up against Lionel as they pressed on, their shoes sinking into the peaty ground beneath them.

"Lionel..." Holly breathed, her free hand fisting on the boy's sleeve as she pressed against him. "I'm scared, Lionel. What if something attacks us?"

"Don't worry." The taller child grinned at his friend confidently. "I'm here, aren't I? Don't worry about it. Jay will be fine, too." Even so, as they continued on, Holly's grip on Lionel's hand became considerably tighter.

The next hours passed by in a blur. From that day forward, Holly claimed to remember everything as clearly as though it'd happened yesterday. Lionel, on the other hand, only saw that day as a shimmering memory stained with pain and fear. The gray-brown shapes of coyotes, their massive slavering jaws snapping as they materialized from the darkness of a cave mouth. The childrens' initial shock at seeing these massive creatures instead of the foxes they'd been expecting. Lionel screaming for his friend to run. The coyotes' hot breath scalding his legs as he ran. The realization that neither of them would make it as they ran in vain from the beasts.

"Keep going!" Lionel had screamed, not waiting for an answer as he spun on his heel to face the beasts. His feet planted him solidly in the ground. He spread his arms out wide, blocking the path, all that stood between them and the beautiful black-haired girl that screamed for him now. He closed his eyes. Holly would escape. She'd find Jay. Together, they'd make it out of here safely. Then... then they'd come back for him. They wouldn't leave him here to die. They'd never do that. They'd bring the adults, and he'd be just fine. But as the canines were upon them, their fangs digging into his flesh, he collapsed and knew it wouldn't end that way. His life would end here. As they tore at him, ripped and snarled and watched his blood flow into the dirt, his vision faded to crimson.

Then he died.

* * *

><p><em>A truly happy man doesn't do anything differently on his final day, does he, Holly?<em>

"Yeah, idiot. But he doesn't die alone, either."

Stinging eyes peeled open, then closed immediately as harsh sunlight reflected off the clean white walls of the hospital. "I didn't die alone this time." He muttered, though he doubted she heard or understood. His voice was so hoarse it reminded him of gravel. "Did I really die again?" The tiniest smile tugged at his lips, and he forced his eyes open again to look at Holly. Her pale face was illuminated by sunlight, and though she tried her best to look stern, there was no disguising the relief on her face.

"Yup." Another voice spoke. Lionel turned his head slowly to see Jason, who was listening absently to a heartbeat moniter on the other side of his best friend's cot. "You were a flatline. Didn't breathe for five minutes. You were dead." The gray-haired boy sighed and turned his head to face the injured boy. "It really can't be healthy to get yourself killed on a daily basis."

"I dunno about that." Lionel joked, closing one eye in a mixture between a wink and a wince of pain from his wounds. "It's a bit of a rush, you know? Get the adrenaline pumping."

"Guys, this is serious!" Holly spoke suddenly, her voice deafeningly loud inside the small room. Both boys turned to face her, and Lionel noticed with a start the tears beginning to build in her eyes.

Jason winced suddenly and grimaced at Holly. "Ouch. Okay, ouch. Holly, keep your emotions under control, okay?"

"Well, it's not my fault!" Holly snapped, glaring at the blind boy venomously. Jason had always been incredibly in tune with peoples' emotions, and his friends knew he was unable to control it when he picked up certain feelings that left him breathless or in pain. At times though, it almost seemed as though he could read peoples' minds or look into their pasts. They never questioned him about it, knowing full well he'd speak if he felt like it. "Jason, you warned us today to be careful, and you were right. _Again_. Am I seriously the _only_ one who thinks it's a bit odd that you know what's going to happen?"

"You've never had a problem with it before." Lionel blinked, confused at her anger. "I mean, it's always been this way. Why are you getting so bent out of shape today?"

Her gaze darkened, and she looked away. "That's the problem." She murmured. "We've been keeping it to ourselves all this time... why don't we try to figure out what's happening? Why don't we tell anyone? Think about it! Jason... Jason could become very important! He could predict things that happen not just to us, but to the world-"

"Yeah, and become a scientific experiment for the rest of my life?" Jason sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I don't think so. It's bad enough people wondering how I can perform surgeries if I can't see what I'm doing. I don't need them wondering why I can see the future."

"Wait, you can _see_ the future?" Lionel spoke up, blinking in confusion at his friend.

"No, I can taste it. Yes, idiot, I can see it!"

"But _how_?" Holly pressed, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. "You're blind. How the hell can you manage to see the future? And you've said before you can see in your dreams too, right?"

"He did say that." Lionel mused, staring up at the ceiling. "Hm..."

"I don't see why it matters." Jason's voice was quiet and cold as he stared sightlessly out the window, sunlight catching in his pale blue eyes and gray hair. "I can do what I do, and that's that. There's no reason to find out more details. It won't lead us anywhere."

They were silent for several moments. "But I still don't understand." Lionel pressed. "How can- ngh!" He stopped midsentence, holding one bruised hand to his wounded chest.

Holly stood up and gently helped him lie down in his cot. "You shouldn't be talking so much yet." She chided him gently, laughing at his annoyed expression. "You do know you've been out for an entire day, right? Your parents were worried sick. They finally managed to fall asleep out in the waiting room. I'll make sure they know you're alright." She leaned down and pressed her lips to his forehead for a moment before she straightened up and walked out the door.

Jason chuckled, feeling the embarrasement rolling off of Lionel in waves. He could just imagine his face, blushing bright red. "Shut up." His friend muttered despondantely, his voice sounding somewhat weak.

Sighing, the gray-haired boy spun in his chair to face his friend once more. He stared at him blankly for quite a while before he finally spoke. "So... you 'didn't die alone this time'?"

"You heard that?" Lionel grinned sheepishly, but found himself looking away, unable to meet his friend's scorchingly intense gaze. "Hell, Jay, what's the big deal? There was this guy there, right after those jerks left. He talked to me, but I hardly remember what he said." That was flat-out lie, and he knew his best friend could tell. Every word Ashton had said was burned into his memory. But Jay wouldn't question him if he didn't want to talk about it. There were few things he kept secret. If he was keeping this one, it must be important.

So Jason stared at him silently for the longest moment, his eyes wavering slightly as he tried to decide whether or not to press. But heavy clouds were closing in on Lionel's heart. He was obviously trying very hard to keep this secret to himself. His eyes narrowed for a moment longer, but he finally sighed and leaned back. "If you say so." But while it seemed he wasn't paying attention any more, he was flitting through the memories of the fight that were lodged in his mind. His eyes widened, and Lionel stiffened, obviously able to tell what he was doing. These gangsters weren't behaving normally. Their thirst for blood was unreal. No wonder Lionel hadn't stood a chance. They were unstoppable.

"Stop that." Lionel interrupted, breaking Jason's train of thought. "Don't tell Holly, you got that? She's got enough to worry about. She doesn't need to know about... about whatever the hell was wrong with those guys."

"I understand." Jason replied, giving a rare smile. "Sure thing."

Outside, Holly stood still with her hand still on the doorknob, listening silently to the conversation. Slowly, her hand slid away, dropping to her side without a sound. Tears stung her eyes, but she wiped them away and turned down the hallway. They didn't tell her these things to try and protect her. They didn't want her to worry. But it only worried her more when a situation was so dire they didn't believe she'd be up to it.

They'd trust her one day, she promised herself. One day, she'd show her worth to them.

* * *

><p><strong>Characters mentionedintroduced:**

**Willow- Willowshine **

**Bart- Barkface**

**Brendon- Breezepelt**

**Sorry bout the long wait, guys. DX And I won't be able to update again for quite awhile, since I'll be away from a computer for two weeks. -.- I'm really sorry.**

**Reviewers: winterthaw of thunderclan, Nightkill, tufted titmouse, Coqui's Song, Queen Of The Pens, Stargazer2000, and Brambleflight. Thank you for your support and feedback!**

**So, who's your favorite character so far? Whose appearence are you looking forward to? Any couples, canon or noncanon, you'd like to see? Do the characters differ from how you imagine them in the books? Tell me in a review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Trivia**

**Jason does, in fact, have a bit of a crush on Holly. However, he has never tried to pursue her, knowing she favors Lionel. Lionel has never noticed her feelings toward him and loves her as one would a younger sister. Despite his sour temper, Jason does in fact have a good heart, and so determined never to come between Holly and Lionel.**

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><p>Perhaps, if she'd been someone else, or if she'd been a bit smarter, she would have known better than to stay out as late as she did. If she hadn't been waiting so dutifully for Lionel to wake up. She'd known all along he'd be fine. He always was. Still she stayed, restless and worrying over what would await her at home, but not willing to leave. She wasn't rebellious or bitter or anything like that, she'd tell herself. A friend in trouble was a good reason to stay out late. Cindy, her best friend who was staying at the hospital because of an injured leg, agreed with her. It'd be alright, the gray-haired girl had grinned, her blue eyes alight with the boundless energy chacteristic of her. Everything would be fine.<p>

But when Holly left the hospital that night, she knew better. Jason had asked her to stay, but the sight of Brian and Scarlett Thundera's obvious relief over their son's survival was making her feel sick. Without another glance over her shoulder, she left, unable to bear all the love and happiness and tears.

The walk home was too short. What was actually an hour seemed to pass in a flash. In no time at all, she was rounding the last corner, and saw the looming edge of their little house rising out of the gloom. The ranch spread out beyond it like a blanket, adorned with barns and padlocks and sheep like fluffy clouds. She wasn't fooled by the serene landscape. Not anymore. When everything seemed to be alright, it'd turn wrong. So when she plodded dejectedly up the porch steps and raised one hand to knock reluctantly at the the door, all she could do was gasp in surprise when the door swung open and her father wrapped her in his arms.

For the longest moment she was absolutely still, unable to grasp what was happening, completely amazed. Her father never hugged her. He hardly looked at her, on a good day. Most of the time he was drunk and fighting with Holly's stepmother, Nichole. But Craig Winderland held her tightly now, his arms shivering uncontrollably. "...Dad?" She murmured, raising one hand tentatively to pat his shoulder. "Dad, what's wrong...?"

"Thank God." The lean, black-haired man whispered, his voice quivering. "I saw on the news that Leo was jumped. They said others could have been involved... do you have any idea how worried I've been? What if they'd gotten you? Holly, don't you do that to me again."

"You were worried?" Holly murmured disbelievingly. Her eyes wavered, and she found herself leaning into him, returning his embrace. Until the odor of alcohol finally made itself known to her in her dreamy state. All hopes vanished from her mind. She pulled away quickly, leaving her father staring at her through empty blue eyes. "Dad, you're drunk... you need to get to bed. Come on," She began walking, until she found his hand closing around her wrist. He held her there, and she felt her breathing becoming ragged as fear course through her.

"Don't fucking talk to me that way." The man whispered, his voice so soft it came out as a mere breath. The wrist he held was shaking like a leaf, and he tightened his grip, yanking her roughly back out onto the porch. Ignoring her startled cry, he grabbed her by the face, staring at her with crazed eyes. "You're just like your mother." He snarled. He struck her then, right across the face, leaving her crouched against the side of the house, clutching the wounded side of her face with one hand. Striking a brutal kick to her ribs, he was further infuriated by her gasp of pain.

"Dad, please stop!" She sobbed, trying desperately to hold off his kicks. When finally his violence subsided, she stared up at him, leaf-green eyes terrified and pretty face contorted by the purplish blotch forming on her cheek.

"Where the hell did you get those eyes of yours?" Craig mumured, kneeling next to her and speaking as calmly as though they were at the dinner table. The reek of alcohol wafted off his breath, and he swayed unsteadily as he stared at the orbs gazing back at him. "They ain't your mom's. And they sure as hell ain't mine." He struck her again, this time full in the throat so she was gasping for breath. "You must've damn well gotten them eyes from some other man." He slurred, sneering at her contemptiously. "I bet your mother was two-timing behind my back. That's the only way you could've gotten them ugly eyes of yours. Your mother was a cheating bitch, eh?"

"That's not ture, and you know it." Holly murmured, her eyes squeezed shut as she braced herself for another attack. She knew nothing of her real mother. Only knew her father held nothing but contempt for the woman, whoever she was. But Holly knew full well she looked too much like her father to be anyone else's daughter.

"Are you a slut like her?" Craig asked, ignoring her statement. "I'll bet you are. Getting it on with one of them boys you hang out with. Or maybe both of 'em. Well I'll tell ya now, they don't need no slut like you running around. You're gonna get knocked up by some boy you hardly know and I'm not gonna do anything for you, just like her parents." He spat off to the side, swaying as he stood. "Get the hell out of my sight, freaking bitch."

Quickly as she could, she stood up. Her entire body protested against it, nearly screaming in pain from the bruises and such, but she was propelled along by her father's rough push. She felt like she was swimming, her movements too slow, each step she took a miracle requiring a huge amount of effort. At last she was away from him, in the house, up the stairs. Stumbling and crying and making as little noise as she could, she didn't even make it to her bed. Instead she collapsed right inside her room, curled into a fetal position with tears streaking down her face.

Downstairs, Craig wept alone, broken beer bottles scattered on the floor.

* * *

><p>Back at the hospital, Jason felt each blow like a stab to his heart. He sat, perfectly still beside Leo's cot. His hands clenched and unclenched again and again while he endured the same thing Holly did, almost every day. He could sense her, in a way. The three weren't really aware of it, but when they got sad all of a sudden or felt terribly happy, it was from something happening to one of their companions. The three were in tune with each other, completely entwined. Often, they could block off the flow of pain to the other two, as Lionel had managed to after his attack, or the recieving pair could block it off themselves. But Holly was too preoccupied to care about blocking off their connection.<p>

It didn't matter to Jay. He wanted to share this burden with her. He purposely kept their connection open, wishing more than anything that he could be there with her, protecting her from a wrath she didn't deserve. Looking at Lionel, he could see that, even asleep, his eyebrows worked with surpressed anger and his teeth clenched. This time was so much worse than any other time. Not just the beating, but the feeling of complete betrayel. One moment, she'd thought it'd be alright. He had held her, and he'd cared. The next he was beating her and all hope was ripped away from her. It seemed too cruel. Too unfair. Nobody, especially not someone like Holly, should have to face that unrequited hatred.

When finally it ended and Holly collapsed, Jason closed the connection, unwilling to bear any more. Holly's dreams tended to be even worse than what she experienced in her waking hours. So he leaned back in the chair, his breathing somewhat unsteady. He could hear Lionel's strangled groan beside him and suspected that he was unable to close the connection. Much like Jason with people's emotions and thoughts, Lionel had a hard time closing off his bond with his friends. In fact, Jay wouldn't be surprised if he lived Holly's nightmares every night. Suddenly, the sound of the doorknob twisting alerted him. Curious as to who could be up so late, he faced the door. It creaked open, and Jason could feel the light, bouncy aura of Cindy filling the room.

"Hello, Jay." Cindy chirped as she entered the small room. Her crutches made a stead tap-tap sound as she limped forward to the chair Holly had been sleeping in earlier. She sat down with a squeak from the chair.

Jason twitched in annoyance. Cindy's bubbly, innocent prescence and inability to sit still made her the complete opposite of Jason. Despite this, it was seemingly impossible to stay angry with her about anything, because she was quite honestly one of the nicest people he'd ever met. Then again, he hated people that were nice. Well, she was an exception. Possibly. "Yo." He replied, more out of courtesy then anything. "How's your leg?"

Cindy's prescence swiftly became dejected. That was another thing about Cindy. Her emotions were fragile, sweet things, and she was easily hurt. Her voice was always cheery, though, and she showed no signs of being at all unhappy. Holly had said often she was the best friend anyone could have, much to Leo's jealousy. Extremely loyal to those she was attached to, she was like an over-exuberant puppy. "Fine!" She answered, her voice a bit too high-pitched, as though she were forcing herself to sound happy. About a month ago, she'd fallen from a tall tree while trying to save a kitten. The kitten had been fine, which she'd been glad about, though her leg was badly broken. It showed no signs of healing, which scared Jason more than anything. "It doesn't hurt all that much."

"Yeah, right." Jason muttered, standing up and stretching. Cindy was one of the most valued members of the school's track team, and Jay knew how important it was to her. "I'll tell you what." He finally said with a sigh. "I've been thinking about it for awhile, honestly. I want to try water therapy with you. We can go down to the lakefront tomorrow, and we can start." Though he said it with as much conviction as possible, he cringed inwardly. There was no telling if the therapy would work or not. Not to mention his hatred of water.

"Really?" Cindy whispered, as though if she said it too loudly it might not be true. "Do you think it will work?"

"Maybe." Jason answered honestly, his voice dropping to a more serious note. "We can't be sure, though. It may not do anything."

"That's fine." She answered hurriedly. "As long as there's a chance, I'm fine with it." Suddenly, she was quiet, and she looked silently at the young man in front of her. His blind blue eyes seemed to stare past her, and the sharp angles of his face sent shadows over his skin. He seemed strange to her then, someone sureal that didn't belong in these surroundings. Yet she smiled, because this man was willing to help her.

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><p>The first time Heather Darkwater met Lionel Thundera hadn't been at all spectacular.<p>

Working part time on the Winderland's ranch had been her occupation for almost five summers, since she started living with her grandfather. Mr. Owen, the principal at the very same highschool she went to, thought it was healthy for a young girl to begin working as early as possible. So every weekend during the summer she went down to the ranch to help Holly with small jobs, like leading the cattle into the pasture and feeding the chickens.

It was one day, when Heather was hefting a heavy bucket of corn feed through the barn that he crashed into her. She'd seen him around before, of course, both he and Jason. They were Holly's best friends. What he was doing there this time, she had no idea, but he seemed to be in a hurry. As the bucket spilled to the ground, she found herself looking at him intently. She found herself blushing as her gaze traveled upwards from his long, athletic legs, to the tight shirt that allowed her to see every muscle on his broad chest, and finally to his face.

What an ugly face.

Upon further examination, however, she found that the face wasn't really ugly. Not at all, in fact. Possibly as far from ugly as possible. No, it was just... strange. Like he was forcing himself to look indifferent. Behind movie-star good looks, he seemed to be hiding an upbeat and exuberant personality. His golden hair fell around his head in spiky locks, and his dark amber eyes glittered with hardly surpressed humor. She blushed even more when she saw his defensive expression disapear as he began to laugh.

"Man, did your cheeks get pink." He grinned, then kneeled down and handed her the bucket. "Sorry about that, by the way. Didn't really look where I was going."

"I could tell." She muttered in response, somewhat peeved he'd been teasing her. "Thank you for picking that up, though."

"No problem." The golden-haired young man answered with a wave as he continued on his way. Heather stared after him, her pale violet-blue eyes wide.

Little did she know, Lionel would soon become a much larger part of her life than she'd ever anticipated.

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><p><strong>Long wait was long. T.T<strong>

**I'm so sorry, guys. I'll be better from now on. o3o**

**Reviewers: winterthaw of thunderclan, Coqui's Song, Queen Of The Pens, Nightkill, tufted titmouse, Ivypool Luva, Sparkheart of ThunderClan, Frostbreeze of Riverclan, Lady Elizabeth of New York, Stardust98, and Stargazer 2000. Thank you all for your patience. DX**

**So, if Lionel had a theme song, what would it be? What about Jason, or Holly? Tell me in a review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Trivia**

**Cindy has mixed feelings for Lionel. She's known him since they were very young and cares for him deeply, as she does most people she meets. Part of her, the intuitive part that makes her such a reliable friend, is deathly afraid of him for a reason she doesn't know. Despite this she is always there to help him if he needs it, telling herself the fear is silly.**

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><p>Jason listened silently to the gentle splashing of Cindy's feet as she raced along the bank of the lake. He noted that she didn't stumble even once as she submerged herself in the blissfully cool water that lapped at his toes. He enjoyed listening to her swim. She was a dancer in the water, a mermaid brought to life as the liquid surged around her.<p>

"Jason!" Cindy chirped as she surfaced, water streaming down her face. Her feet found the smooth stone near the bank as she approached the large rock the gray-haired boy sat on. "Why don't you get in the water? It's warm today, you know."

He grimaced at her. The water was most certainly _not_ warm. His toes were almost numb at this point. "No, thanks." Jason answered with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I'm not the one with the severe medical condition."

Even though he couldn't see her, he knew she was looking at him skeptically.

"Alright, look, swimming can't cure blindness. Seriously."

"I know that!" Cindy giggled, the smile in her voice evident. "You're just so grumpy and sarcastic all the time, it's like you forget that people are trying to look at you with sympathy." The happiness melted from her voice, being replaced with uncharacteristic seriousness. She rested her elbows on the edge of the rock, cradling her chin in her hands while she looked up at the boy she addressed. "How come you don't accept peoples' help?"

Instead of answering, Jason lifted one foot and prodded her in the forehead hard enough that she toppled back into the lake. When she resurfaced, laughing and sputtering, Jason couldn't help the ghost of a smile that crossed his lips. "Idiot," he muttered. "Get back to swimming and quit asking dumb questions."

Of course, Cindy took no offense at all to this, simply giggled and without another word dived back under. Jay listened silently to the gentle swaying of the trees in the wind before he finally stood. The sun was out; he could feel it warming his back through the thin cloth of his t-shirt. A simple, beautiful autumn day. Sighing lightly, the young man slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he turned his face upward to the daytime sky.

Lionel had been released from the hospital only the day before. His wounds had healed remarkably quickly, though the scar in his abdomen would never quite fade. That was what concerned Jason the most. Leo's wounds always healed completely; even after the coyote attack, no marks were left on his body a month later. Not only that, but the pure ferocity of the attack disturbed him. Not a single person in the world had a real grudge against Lionel. He was too easy-going, too charasmatic and likeable.

So why had they attacked him? Many times he'd made Leo recount the story, how the boys with crazed looks in their eyes wasted no time in slitting the knife over his skin. They were hellbent on killing him. The desire they held wasn't of the cowardly man trying to prove his worth to a ruthless leader; it was the unmistakable bloodlust of the insane.

His mind tumbling with these thoughts, Jay leapt off the jutting rock. As soon as he landed, his ankle twisted beneath him and he fell the the ground with a startled cry. The boy growled in annoyance as he sat up, reaching out to try and find what had tripped him. As soon as his fingers traced the surface of what was an impossibly smooth stick, his breath caught in his throat.

The dark curtain in his eyes seemed to shatter, if only for a moment, thrown off balance as his fingers burned. Jerking back, he was left panting at the sensation of awaking from a dizzying nightmare. He sat perfectly still for a long minute, listening to Cindy, telling himself she hadn't noticed anything unusual. Having caught his breath, Jason reached out his hand again, this time prepared for the swooping brightness that fell on him. His muscles were clenched, prepared, but he discovered soon it was only the initial touch that had startled him. The burning in his fingers wasn't a burning; it was strangely pleasant, a humming sort of warmth.

Once his body had relaxed, the brightness in his mind's eye became almost blinding. Images began to flash there, in his mind, in his eyes, all around him. He couldn't be sure what they were, the strange disconcerting blobs of gray shades, but they brought with them a feeling of breathlessness. His throat clenched as he felt he was spinning, his hand grasping the stick. For a moment he could see it. It perfectly straight, smooth, and pure white. Neat horizontal notches along the sides were the only disturbance. Many, he saw, were marked straight through with a smaller diagonal marking.

"_There will be three, kin of your kin, who hold the power of the stars in their hands."_

He lurched backward. The booming voice had been too much, coming from the depths of his mind in a frightening torrent. As his world stilled and faded again into blackness, his breath came in ragged gasps. He could feel Cindy's hand on his shoulder, the gentle pressure she exerted as she rubbed his back in an effort to bring him back to life, the cold water dripping from her hair onto his shirt. When his trembling finally stopped, he felt her massages cease. She moved to face him, avoiding the stick unconciously. "Jason, are you alright?"

His throat felt dry, and he swallowed several times before speaking. "Sure I am." He finally muttered, his voice sounding too cheery and high. "I'm... yeah, I'm fine."

Feeling her doubting gaze on his face, he shook his head. "Come on, we should get back." He said finally, forcing his stiff limbs to respond to his commands. The girl murmured her consent, then went to fetch her bag. Jason began to follow her, then on a whim reached down and gripped the smooth stick in one hand. No sensation was left in the wood, but he clutched it to himself all the same. Suddenly feeling the need to explain himself for picking the stick up, he scowled. "It's a nice stick."

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><p>Soccer practice had been easy today, which he had been grateful for. Despite his cuts and scratches being completely healed, he could still feel the dull ache of his internal injuries as they patched themselves together. The energy pent-up inside of him from laying in the hospital bed was still not completely unleashed however, and he found himself craving release. For reasons unknown to him, or perhaps known but ignored by any scrap of common sense he had, he found himself walking to the alley. The very same alley he'd been attacked in, where the mysterious voice of Ashton Woode had spoken to him.<p>

The twinge of fear Lionel felt looking into the darkness of the alley was ignored and pushed aside. He'd decided he'd wanted some more rigorous excerisize, and he wasn't going to back out now. Steeling himself against the shiver that threatened against his spine, he took a single step into the shadows. Vaguely he was aware of the sound of dripping water, just the same as when he'd been there last. He counted the drips unconciously and after five had passed took another step. The darkness seemed to weigh on him somehow, as though the shadows were pulling down on him, celebrating in his convergence to their depths. The notion was quickly banished when a gravelly voice spoke.

"You finally decided to come..."

Lionel blinked several times before deciding it was best he replied to the seemingly unfinished statement. "Um... yeah. I was kind of in the hospital. For fatal injuries. You know, because I almost died."

A soft chuckle of dry amusement drifted back to him, followed by several moments of silence. "You cannot see me, correct?"

"No... it's pretty dark."

A grunt of what he assumed was confirmation sounded before the man's voice spoke again. "Come closer. Your eyes will adjust eventually, and you should stay out of sight while we are training."

Not even bothering to ask what they were training for for fear of getting a riddle of an answer, Lionel stepped closer to the voice until the blackness completely enveloped his form.

"You look like your grandfather." The voice observed as the sound of footsteps from the shadows came closer to the boy. Within moments, Lionel's vision had adjusted enough for him to see the man in front of him. He blinked in surprise, not expecting to see the clean-cut fellow standing with an apathetic expression in his dark blue eyes. A pinstriped dark gray suit and matching slacks unmarred by the filth of the alley, and neatly dark-flecked gray hair swept back over his head. He appeared somewhat older than Lionel's father, but frown lines on his forehead gave the impression of someone much older.

"And you..." Lionel quirked his head, trying to think of a witty retort. "...are kind of strangely dressed for being in an alley in these parts, don't you think? And how do you know my grandfather, anyway?"

A strange melancholy smirk graced the man's thin lips for only a second before it faded again into a scowl. "Your hair isn't as orange as his is, though. More blond. And his eyes are green." He murmured, ignoring both of the boy's questions. "But your face is like his. Strong. Handsome."

"Well gee, thanks." Lionel smirked and quirked one eyebrow. "And here I thought you were saying I looked old."

"I used to work with your father." The man continued, ignoring the highschool student's look of surprise. "I was your mother's history teacher. Her very favorite teacher next to Brian, for the record."

So this guy had a sense of humor. That was unexpected. Almost as unexpected as hearing his father's first name used so openly. Brian Thundera was a very well-respected, honorable man, and only those closest to him ever used his name.

"...And now you're hanging out in alleys instead of trying to get a good job from my dad. Makes sense." He shifted his weight slightly, feeling discomfort rising in his chest.

Dark fire flashed in Ashton's azure eyes. His demeanor had changed so suddenly, so radically, Lionel blinked several times before he realized he may have done something wrong. Then, as suddenly as the rage had come, it subsided, and Ashton was calm and collected once again. "Not the most tactful child I've ever met." He muttered dryly. "That much reminds me of your mother."

"Glad to hear it. Now, care to explain what this is about?" Impatient now, Lionel stepped forward and was surprised when the older man stepped back. Dark amber eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion, but he relaxed his posture all the same.

"Not so fast." He sounded faintly amused, but it was hard to tell when his face was so impassive. "You agreed to this easily enough. If you're having second thoughts now, that's on you. I made our goal rather clear if I remember correctly. You were aware it would be dangerous. If anything, that piqued your interest. You wanted a challenge. You told me you want to win. My only goal..."

Lionel had to force himself not to flinch back when Ashton stepped forward and laid one cold hand on the younger boy's broad shoulder. He leaned down next to the student's ear, enough that his breath tickled the hair at the base of Leo's neck.

"...is to keep you safe."

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><p>"...Holly, come here."<p>

Holly flinched and gave a silent sigh of defeat. She'd hoped she could sneak past her stepmother when she passed the laundrey room, but it was no use. Nikkie Winderland missed nothing. The girl walked to the woman slowly, her head bowed in an attempt to hide her no doubt bruised face.

She heard Nikkie sigh wearily before she reached out and tipped Holly's chin up so she could see her face. Thin, arching eyebrows pressed together as she examined the bruise forming over the girl's eye, marring her pale skin. Holly gulped, watching the scrutinizing amber eyes of her stepmother trace her face. Nikkie was a beautiful woman, there was no doubt about that. Her curly black hair swept over her shoulders in a soft cascade, and her dark brown skin seemed to glow with life. But creases of worry were beginning to take hold on her forehead and around her mouth, the only sign of the stress the woman underwent in her own family.

The woman's thumb rubbed her stepdaughter's cheek gently, and her lips parted slightly to allow another sigh to escape. "I'm sorry." She murmured, swallowing hard. There was nothing else to be said. "We don't deserve this. You don't deserve this. But you've got to stay strong, you hear me, girl? You're smart and you've got a good, steady heart. You're gonna take your brother and get out of this place one day. He won't hurt you then, I swear it."

Before she could stop them, tears ran down from Holly's already-stinging red eyes. Nikkie wiped them away with her thumb before stepping out of the room. She appeared again not long afterward with a small make-up bag. In no time, all of Holly's obvious bruises were invisible and Nikkie gave her a rare smile. "I wish there was more that I could do. But I just... I..."

_What?_ Holly wanted to ask. _You're too scared? Too selfish? Too weak? _Knowing she was in danger of speaking aloud, Holly turned sharply and left her stepmother in the room alone. A bitter, hollow feeling was growing in her chest, weighing down on her heart. Nikkie meant well, that much was obvious. Despite her ferocious temper and inclination to keep her image pristine, she was in as much pain as Holly was, and from the same source. She couldn't help that Craig did not love her.

As Holly was making her way done the hallway with rather stiff movements, she suddenly collided with the slightly shorter form of her brother.

"Oof! Sorry, Holly." Brendon grinned, backing up. At eleven years old, he was was quite tall and had chocolate-colored skin somewhat lighter than his mother's. His short black hair was a tangled clump atop his head and his amber eyes were bright. "Heather just called and said she'd come by soon."

"Why're you in such a good mood?" Holly asked, raising one eyebrow suspiciously. Usually her half-brother was cranky and irritable, much like their father. He always seemed to be in a good mood after hearing from Heather, for some reason.

"Hm? Uh... some of my friends wanted me to go roller skating with them." He shifted uncomfortably, not meeting his sister's gaze. "So..."

"Right." She smirked at his evasion of the question implying his crush on Holly's friend. Raising one hand, she ruffled his hair before he ducked away from her and raced away to join his friends. Brendon frequently endured the brunt of their father's fury, simply because he didn't have the sense to evade his anger. He purposely defied him, took every chance handed to him to infuriate him further.

Their father would be at work now, so at least she was safe from him. Still walking stiffly from the pain of her injuries, she entered the living room and collapsed on the tattered armchair in the corner. Beer bottles that had been scattered around the room before had long since been cleaned up by Nikkie, but the faint smell of alcohol still lingered in the stale air. She wondered idly why Heather was coming over. As far as she knew, they didn't have an plans today. Maybe there was something she wanted to talk about.

It seemed to take only a few minutes for the doorbell to ring. Holly stood and made her way to the door. She cracked it open on its rusty hinges and smiled when she saw her brunette friend standing before her with a wide smile. "Hey, Heather. You didn't tell me you'd be stopping by today."

The girl grimaced, then stepped in as Hollyleaf gestured for her to enter the house. "I know, and I'm sorry I didn't check to make sure it was okay. But I've been thinking a lot lately, and there's something I want to ask you about."

Together the two made their way to the living room. Hollyleaf sat at her armchair while Heather took the couch. "So what's up?" The black-haired girl asked, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.

Heather wasted no time in getting to the point. "I was just wondering if Leo had a girlfriend."

Holly blinked several times, then frowned. "Not that I know of... why?"

A smile broke out across Heather's face, which lit up her pretty pale blue-violet eyes. "Well... I dunno. I ran into him a couple of months ago and I've kind of been thinking about him ever since. I've seen him a couple of times since then, and when he was in the hospital I was so worried... Do you think he'd be interested in going out with me sometime?"

For once, no quick answer could be found. She stared at her friend blankly, aware she was probably gaping like a fish. "Erm... Heather, I don't know if that's a good idea..." Jealousy surged in her furiously, but she forced it down. There was another reason it wouldn't work out, she told herself. One that didn't have anything to do with her. Craig family company had merged with Thundera Inc. some time ago, which was where Craig now worked. But since then, Heather's own grandfather had started a business of his own which now rivaled Thunder Inc.

"I know, there's that whole family feud thing." Heather shrugged carelessly. "Honestly, it doesn't matter. They couldn't stop us from going out."

"Heather." Holly repeated, more forcefully this time. She stood, suddenly feeling furious with the brown-haired girl. "Don't do it. I'm serious. Lionel is off-limits."

Blinking at her friend in confusion, it didn't take long for Heather's eyes to narrow. She stood as well and faced Holly boldly. "Says you!" She snapped. "I think he can decide for himself!"

She was gaping again, but quickly snapped her mouth shut and glared at her counterpart. Who did she think she was? Honestly? Could she really not see how Holly felt? Some friend she was! "You. Can't. Have. Him." Her reply through gritted teeth was almost too low to hear, but Heather obviously did. With one smooth movement, the brunette spun around and walked out the front door, slamming it behind her.

"Holly! Don't slam the door!" Nikkie shouted from the next room.

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><p><strong>... I have no excuse.<strong>

**Kill me now.**

**/sob**

**Anywayz... I really am trying, guys. I've been incredibly busy, but I will not give up on these stories. No more three-month breaks, either. I hope.**

**...Ashton's got his creeper face on, no?**

**Reviewers: Ivypool Luva, Coqui's Song, Queen Of The Pens, Nightkill, tufted titmouse, Frostbreeze of Riverclan, IanHardinglover, NoExistance876, Dewfrost314, and Rain's Song.**

**Sooo, I got many answers for the question I put in the last chapter (the one about the theme songs for each of the main characters) and decided to compose my own little list.**

**Lionel- Dance with the Devil by Breaking Benjamin**

**Jason- Going in Blind by P.O.D.**

**Holly- The Ballad of Mona Lisa by Panic!At the Disco**

**The question for this chapter: what Ivypool pairing do you think I should include in this story? Ivypool/Hawkfrost, Ivypool/Breezepelt, Ivypool/Bumblestripe, or Ivypool/Mousewhisker? I already know which I'll be using, I just want to know your opinion~**

**Thanks for reading! Please leave a review!**


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